Chapter 10 - A Time for Every Purpose

King Solomon and The Queen of Sheba

In bed one night, when Oliver was old, his mind was warm with the flowing liquid ideas of someone who is searching. He felt, although he could not say why, that he must justify his art, not to a court of humans, for his work had been scrutinized, venerated and even in these late times, remembered, but to some unnamed thing, some creature that stands guard at the mouth of the river of all art--a justification of Oliver’s soul to be admitted into that river.

One question bubbled to the top, burst and fell back down like a raisin in ginger ale: Did originality exist? This question was being asked by the part of his imagination that, at this moment, had become King Solomon.

Solomon stood, balanced on the edge of a blank sheet of paper, reciting Ecclesiastes. Oliver sat below, at first only watching and listening. But then in a fit of boldness, he interrupted the king.

"Everything is new,” he said.